


The Open Road

by light_loves_the_dark



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, I just felt like Belle needed a friend, and not to immediately jump into another romantic relationship, happy-ish ending, post 4a, sad feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-04-01 19:14:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4031425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/light_loves_the_dark/pseuds/light_loves_the_dark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle wasn’t sure who she was expecting to pull her away from the town line, but it wasn’t her. </p>
<p>Or..</p>
<p>Belle has a heart-to-heart with someone who isn’t Rumplestiltskin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Open Road

**Author's Note:**

> This is partially because I needed closure, and partially because Belle deserves a friend. They both do.

_“I say back I am not afraid to leave you, yet I love you,_

_You express me better than I can express myself,_

_You shall be more to me than my poem.”_

_-Walt Whitman, Song of the Open Road_

It had been hours since she had forced her husband to cross the town line, and still Belle could not find it within herself to move.

 

He had stayed with her for at least an hour or so, staring hopelessly across the red line. Eventually, he looked away, crawling to the forest and coming back with a long, sturdy stick. Belle had fallen to the ground, forcing her fingernails into the grainy pavement, trying to stop herself from throwing her body through the blue-tinted magic. The pain she felt as her nails broke, blood appearing through the tiny cracks, was nothing to watching the man she loved – would always, always love – grunt and cringe with every step. Every step he took away from her.

 

She could not bear to stray from that spot, even as she began to realize he had no cane, no money, no change of clothes.

 

The dagger lay forgotten, feet away, out of reach.

 

She knew at some point someone would come to find her, even if their true motive was to see what had happened to her husband. They would drive her home, and leave her in a house filled to the brim with reminders of their life together, of _him-_

_Rumplestiltskin._

Just to think his name was painful enough.

 

Belle was so lost in her own thoughts that she completely neglected to notice the roaring sound of a car as it pulled up next to her. In fact, she was oblivious up to the first words spoken to her since-

 

_Belle, please… Belle!_

“Belle?”

 

She started at the unexpected cadence; she had assumed it would be Emma, or Snow White… Or even Ruby or _Hook,_ for gods sake.

 

“Belle, Emma told me what happened. You need to tell me where… oh.”

 

Belle turned to face the woman standing behind her, noting the hand that was half- stretched out towards her –or perhaps the dagger, the dried tears on the cheeks of the queen who had locked her up for years.

 

“Yes, I… He’s gone. I made him c-cross. I h-hurt him.” Tears streamed silently down her cheeks, making Regina inch towards her, now with both hands extended.

 

But old scars had never really faded, despite forgiveness, and Belle ignored Regina to lunge for the dagger, wrapping it up tightly in her arms. Even as it dug into her hands, she gently traced the black letters, holding onto the part of her true love that he had loved the most. “Even if he never comes back,” she said, strength briefly seeping into her voice, “I will not let anyone else have the power to hurt him.”

 

Regina gave up, sinking to the ground. “I wasn’t…” She paused. “You know, I am sorry.”

 

The former lady looked up from her preoccupation. “Sounds familiar,” she replied wryly, her accent thickening. “For locking me up? For turning me into Lacey? That was a long time ago, Regina. I forgave you.”

 

“No, well, yes, I _am_ sorry for all that too,” the woman said, flashing a smile with no warmth beneath it. There was a bitterness in her, Belle noticed, that she had never seen reflected in her husband. A yearning for redemption that Rumplestiltskin never had. Belle wondered if she was finally seeing clearly – or maybe her disappointment and anger in Rumple was clouding her judgment? No, Regina has been changing – has changed. He never changed, only regretting his actions when everything became visible to her.

 

“But what I meant was - I’m sorry for never trying to get to know you.”

 

She couldn’t help it; Belle burst into laughter, but it came out sounding like more sobbing. Maybe it was. Here she was, mourning the loss of the man she loved, a loss of her own doing, and a formerly evil queen who had caged her for years was asking her forgiveness for not being her friend? Maybe this wasn’t real; maybe this was the fairytale.

 

Regina stretched out her legs, crossing them neatly, dark eyes strangely honest. “I’m serious. I know that this town took a long time to accept me, but that makes me the person most in the wrong here, because I would be the best person to… understand. Not to mention I killed hundreds of people- you only loved a man who made poor choices. And Rumplestiltskin, Belle, he loves you. No one could ever convince me otherwise, not even him.” She smirked darkly, and for an instant, Belle recognized the woman who used to come to look at her in the asylum, and she flinched. “After all, I used you to hurt him, and I am not stupid.” Suddenly, the old Regina was gone, and the new Regina smiled encouragingly in her place. Belle relaxed, but did not loosen her grip on the dagger.

 

“What I’m trying to say is that because the he’s an idiot, and a coward, and a beast – and trust me, dear, no one knows that more than you and I – does not mean that he doesn’t love you more that anything.”

 

“Not more than his power,” Belle corrected, pushing away the urge to bury her head in her knees and try to forget what the gauntlet had told her.

 

Regina sighed. “I’m one of the villains, Belle, and part of me always will be. I love power, and the freedom it allows. But I loved it most because I thought it made me better, something more important and impressive, especially to Henry. And I thought I needed it to protect him, and I still think that, to an extent.”

 

Belle had finally relaxed her hold on the knife, her tears drying. The pain in her fingernails, however, only grew as adrenaline worn off and she pushed back the crippling grief that had gripped her the past few hours. She winced, and Regina glanced down at the librarian’s hands, trying to hide her horror at the sight.

 

“May I?”

 

Belle paused for a moment, then nodded, tucking the dagger in her jacket and holding her arms out, nearly heaving at the vision of dried blood and forming scars. How had she not noticed doing that?

 

“Grief can make us do terrible things,” Regina said, and Belle got the feeling she wasn’t really talking about Belle’s current experience.

 

Regina moved forward cautiously until there was only a foot of space between them, taking Belle’s hands in hers. “Is it okay if I use magic?”

 

If it had been any other situation, she would have laughed at the delicate way the usually very hot-headed queen was treated her. As if she had the volatile magic that came with being the Dark One, and not her husband. At the moment, however, she could only manage a watery smile. “Of course,” came the reply: “I have nothing against the art itself, it’s more-”

 

“-what it does to people, I get it,” Regina finished, the bitter look replacing the warm smile Belle had enjoyed so briefly.

 

“So, how did you?” She finally asked, watching as the golden glow – at least Regina had the tact to not use the same blue tinted magic of the town line – as it enveloped her like a soothing balm. She sighed in relief.

 

“How did I what?” The queen questioned. “You have a remarkable pain tolerance, by the way. The magic tells me that must’ve hurt quite a bit.”

 

Belle took her hands back, rubbing them together, ignoring the urge to lovingly recite the stories of how she and Rumplestiltskin had grown closer, starting with the one where he had thrown her into a tree to protect her from hungry wolves. A high pain tolerance was needed when one was not only accident-prone, but constantly in the company of the Dark One. Regina looked as if she was surprised the other woman did not move away again, but neglected to comment. Something for which Belle was grateful. “Change,” she clarified, a soft, wistful tone permeating the air. “How did you change?”

 

Regina leaned forward, taking Belle’s hands in hers slowly, as if not to startle her. “Can I tell you a secret?” The librarian nodded, meeting Regina’s eyes directly. “I don’t know if I have, really.”

 

Belle instantly became affronted. “ _Not changed?_ Of course you have! You saved your true love’s wife from being killed, helped the town… You’re part of the Charming family...”

 

Regina smiled at her. “I can see why Rumple loved you so much; you have quite a way to make everyone around you better- happier.” Belle blushed lightly. “I’m not sure, really. I think it’s more of a change of perspective. But I still love power, and my first impulse is always to do something selfish.”

 

“Regina, at your core, you are _good._ Take it from someone who has been spared no experience on your bad side. You are good, and deserving of love – and I am sorry about Robin, Regina. You deserve a happy ending, because you are a good person, I swear it.”

 

“Then so is Rumplestiltskin.”

 

Belle started, the familiar doubt creeping back. “I’m not so sure anymore…”

 

Regina interrupted her, clutching her hands tighter. Belle winced a little. “ _No,_ Belle. I’m not good at… hope speeches. And I won’t give you false assurances that your husband, if he finds a way back in, won’t fail you in the future. Because he probably will. He’s no prince charming, and he’s not really even charming, but he loves you. True evil isn’t capable of true love.”

 

They sat in silence for a moment. Two broken women, in the middle of a desolate road, with a dagger and torn picture between them. Then, Belle squeezed her rescuer’s hands, beginning to stand.

 

“I think,” she said softly, holding out a hand to help Regina stand, swaying a little on legs unused to standing, “it’s time to go back into town.”

 

Regina looked down the lonely road, imagining for an instant that Robin was there, that Robin was coming back to her. Then she wished the image away, hooking arms with the high-heeled woman next to her, knowing Belle was imagining the same thing. They turned their backs on the road.

 

“I think that’s a good start.”

 

 


End file.
